The End of All Songs

"Greek…?" Amelia Underwood hesitated, unwilling to contradict. Then, it seemed, she realized the influence. "It suits you perfectly. You look lovely."

"I would be welcome in your world?"

"Oh, certainly! In many sections of society you would be the centre of attention."

Mistress Christia beamed and bent, with soft lips, to kiss Mrs. Underwood upon her cheek, murmuring, "You look magnificent, of course, yourself. Did you make the dress or did you bring it from the Dawn Age? It must be an original."

"It was made here."

"It is still beautiful. You have the advantage over us all! And you, too, Jherek look the very picture of the noble, Dawn Age hero. So manly! So desirable!"

Mrs. Underwood's hand tightened a fraction on Jherek's arm. He became almost euphoric.

Yet Mistress Christia was sensitive, too. "I shall not be the only one to envy you today, Amelia." She permitted herself a wink. "Or Jherek, either." She looked beyond them. "Here is our host!"

The Duke of Queens had seen a soldier, during his brief stay in 1896. But never had there been a scarlet tunic so thoroughly scarlet as the one he sported, nor buttons so golden, nor epaulettes so bright, nor belt and boots so mirror-gleaming. He had doffed his beard and assumed Dundreary sidewhiskers; there was a shako a-tilt on his massive head; his britches were dark blue and striped with yellow. His gloves were white and one hand rested upon the pommel of his sword, which dripped with braid. He saluted and bowed. "Honoured you could attend," he said.

Jherek embraced him. "You have been coached, dear friend! You look so handsome!"

"All natural," declared the Duke with some pride. "Created through exercise, you know, with the help of some time-travellers of a military persuasion. You heard of my duel with Lord Shark?"

"Lord Shark! I thought him a misanthrope entirely. To make Mongrove seem as gregarious as Gaf the Horse in Tears. What lured him from his grey fortress?"

"An affair of honour."

"Indeed?" said Amelia Underwood. "Insults, was it, and pistols at dawn?"

"I offended him. I forget how. But I was remorseful at the time. We settled with swords. I trained for ages. The irony was, however…"

He was interrupted by Bishop Castle, in full evening dress, copied from Mr. Harris, doubtless. His handsome, rather ascetic, features were framed by a collar that was perhaps a little taller than normally fashionable in 1896. He had disdained black and the coat and trousers were, instead, bottle-green; the waistcoat brown, the shirt cream-coloured. His tie matched his coat and the exaggeratedly high top-hat on his head.

"Jesting Jherek, you have been hidden too long!" His voice was slightly muffled by the collar covering his mouth. "And your Mrs. Underwood! Gloom vanishes. We are all united again!"

"Is it ma

"Compliments are the colour of our conversation, dear Mrs. Underwood. We are fulfilled by flattery; we feed on praise; we spend our days in search of the perfect peal of persiflage that will make the peacock in us preen and say 'Behold — I beautify the world!' In short, exquisite butterfly in blue, you may so compliment me and already do. May I in turn honour your appearance; it has detail which, sadly, few of us can match. It does not merely attract the eye — it holds it. It is the finest creation here. Henceforth there is no question but that you shall lead us all in fashion. Jherek is toppled from his place!"

She lifted an appreciative eyebrow; his bow was sweeping and all but lost him his hat, while his head virtually disappeared from view for a moment. He straightened, saw a friend, bowed again, and drifted away. "Later," he said to them both, "we must reminisce."

Jherek saw amusement in her eyes as she watched Bishop Castle rise to a nearby gallery. "He is a voluble cleric," she said. "We have bishops not unlike him in 1896."

"You must tell him, Amelia. What greater compliment could you pay?"

"It did not occur to me." She hesitated, her self-assurance gone for a second: "You do not find me callow?"

"Ha! You rule here already. Your good opinion is in demand. You have the authority both of bearing and of background. Bishop Castle spoke nothing but the truth. Your praise warmed him."

He was about to escort her higher when the Duke of Queens, who had been in conversation with Mistress Christia, turned back to them. "Have you been long returned, Jherek and Amelia, to the End of Time?"

"Hardly a matter of hours," said she.

"So you remained behind in 1986. You can tell us what became of Jagged?"

"Then he is not yet back?" She glanced to Jherek with some alarm. "We heard…"

"You did not meet him again in 1896? I assumed that was his destination." The Duke of Queens frowned.

"He could be there," said Jherek, "for we have been adventuring elsewhere. At the very Begi

"Lord Jagged of Canaria conceals himself increasingly," complained the Duke, brushing at a braid. "When challenged, he proves himself a master of sophistry. His mysteries cease to entertain because he confuses them so."

"It is possible," said Amelia Underwood, "that he has become lost in Time; that he did not plan this disappearance. If we had not been fortunate, we should still be stranded now."

The Duke of Queens was embarrassed by his own pettishness. "Of course. Oh, dear — Time has become such a talking point and it is not one, I fear, which interests me greatly. I have never had Lord Jagged's penchant for the abstract. You know what a bore I can be."

"Never that," said Jherek affectionately. "And even your vulgarities are splendid."

"I hope so," he said with modesty. "I do my best. You like the building, Jherek?"

"It is a masterpiece."

"More restrained than usual?"

"Much."

The Duke's eye brightened. "What an arbiter we make of you, Jherek! It is only because of your past i

Jherek shrugged. "I have not considered it. But Bishop Castle claims that art has a fresh leader." He bowed to his Amelia.

"You like my Royal Scotland Yard, Mrs. Underwood?" The Duke was eager.

"I am most impressed, Duke of Queens." She appeared to be relishing her new position.

He was satisfied. "But what is this concerning the Begi

"Perhaps," said Jherek. "Molluscs, you know. And ferns. Rocks. Hampers. Water-scorpions. Time Centres. Yes, there would be enough for a modest entertainment of some sort."

"You have tales for us, too!" Mistress Christia had returned. "Adventures, eh?"

Now more of the guests had sighted them and began to drift towards them.

"I think some, at least, will amuse you," said Amelia Underwood. Jherek detected a harder edge to her voice as she prepared to face the advancing crowd, but she had lost that quality when she next spoke. "We found many surprises there."

"Oh, this is delightful!" cried Mistress Christia. "What an enviable pair you are!"

"And brave, too, to risk the snares and vengeances of Time," said the Duke of Queens.

Gaf the Horse in Tears, a Gibson Girl to the life, a Sailor hat upon his up-pi

Sharp-featured Doctor Volospion, in a black, swirling cape and a black, wide-brimmed hat, his eyes glittering from the shadows of his face, said softly: "We did not believe him, of course."

"Yet our time-travellers disappear — vanishing from our menageries at an astonishing rate. I lost four Adolf Hitlers alone, just recently." Sweet Orb Mace was splendid in rubashka, tarboosh, pantaloons and high, embroidered boots. "And one of them, I'm sure, was real. Though rather old, admittedly…"